


Blue Hawk

by aliasofwestgate



Series: Bird of Prey [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Shapeshifting, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliasofwestgate/pseuds/aliasofwestgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Blue Hawk is a peregrine with mature plumage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Hawk

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for 1x06

Merlin’s first kill is done in self defense, as Edwin attempts to murder both him and Gaius. Arthur had run full tilt into the hall, to find Merlin shivering in shock at the blood on the floor, and Gaius beside him.  Even with their discrete training, which had allowed Merlin the ability to dodge, he wasn’t ready yet for the kill so soon. Bending down to brush a hand along Merlin’s forehead again, without thinking, the prince looked at the widened blue eyes. Merlin’s eyes weren’t seeing him, or were barely registering his presence.

“Gaius? I can get him to your rooms, can you handle my Father?” The prince asked, his eyes flicking between them both, and settling once again on Merlin’s shaking body.

After he’d returned Merlin to his bed, Arthur sat beside him as he wrapped him up in sheets, staying as close as he dared, too worried to bother about propriety.  Not even bothering with the chair, just settling with his back against the headboard, and resting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder when he felt the manservant stir with nightmares. He stayed awake the entire night with his friend. Merlin woke up only once, and Arthur shushed him the way he remembered his nurse doing for him, coaxing him back to sleep with a hand in his hair and soft words.  He let his own rage wash away in worry for Merlin; instead of wishing to resurrect Edwin so he could kill him with his own hands. The madman had almost taken Morgana, then his Father, and then from all accounts had tried to take Merlin from Gaius’s care in revenge for their past.  He’d gotten that much from Gaius in the walk to the Physician’s quarters, and into Merlin’s room, before the old man hurried off to inform his Father, and tend to him as well. He caught that Gaius was leaving something out, something that involved his friend, a detail that was on the edge of his mind. Arthur finally slept as the sun began to rise.

He was still there when Merlin finally awoke, slouched on the bed in the midmorning light.

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Merlin’s second kill was once again in the Tradesmen’s Quarter of the city. They had been on their way to the shield maker’s enclave, looking for a replacement for the training shields, so of course he dragged Merlin along on such a petty task. It had been a week or two since he had given Merlin the daggers. Arthur had no idea where his manservant had hidden the stilettos, but the rondel was worn as openly as his own.

It had started as an ordinary fight between strangers, the larger men simply bumping up against them both. Then refusing to give way, herding them towards an empty alley just off to their left. He took in as much of their area before he drew his blade without a word. Merlin behaved no different, mostly acting the part of the frightened manservant; talking fast and hurriedly, trying some small attempt to bargain first. The large thugs would have none of it, pulling stunted blades from their scabbards and rushing both of them. Arthur heard the scuff of Merlin’s boots as he moved to counter the nearest of the attackers, the impact on his own blade making his teeth rattle. 

What he didn’t expect was the cursing of the other of the two men, as Merlin was mocking him from all sides. Moving in and out of the sword strikes, verbally prodding the thug closer and closer into anger, and an opening he could use for the kill. Arthur returned his attention to his own man, countering with several strokes and attempting to slip under his guard. Beaten back once more by the sheer reach of the man, he notices a bit of blue woad on an arm as he keeps attempting to break through to make his own kill. He’s busy working his way through, when he hears a body fall right beside him, giving him an opening as he skewers the man before him; an annoyed sneer on his face as he draws his sword out of the man’s corpse, and wipes the blade off on it afterwards.  

Looking over at Merlin, he sees bright blue eyes again, dark with anger at the fallen thug before him; the slate blue rondel sticking out from the neck of the unarmored man.

“Merlin. Grab the dagger,  _now_.” Having to bring out his command voice again. “Clean it you fool! Don’t put it back like that!”  Merlin kneels, his usually clever hands fumbling as they pull out the blade, wiping it clumsily on the thug’s shirt, and placing it back on his belt.

“Come on, we have to report this. The shield can wait.”  Grabbing Merlin’s arm, Arthur hurries him along, trying to distract him, glad that the area they were herded into is mostly deserted. He waylays two sentries on his way into the castle, and sends them out to that area of the city to collect the bodies.  He knows his Father and Gaius will have to solve the mystery of these continual assassination attempts, keeps distracting Merlin with some ordinary chores for just a little longer, seeing the brittleness in the way Merlin’s holding his shoulders, and the silence most of all.

Rushing through the explanation with his father and Gaius, he omits Merlin’s part of it, making the King think he dispatched both thugs with an omission here, a smudged memory there. He nods to his Father and hurries back, Uther beckoning the Court Physician closer to begin a small conference of their own. 

He finds Merlin sitting listlessly by the fire, stirring it, but not quite doing much of anything with it. His slow movements wooden, the slender hands still spattered with blood.

“It doesn’t get any easier, does it?” Merlin asks in a soft voice.

“No, it never does.” Arthur answers back. He moves to Merlin’s side, resting a hand on the black haired man’s neck.  He sits down on the chair near the hearth, letting Merlin lean against his leg. Merlin dozes off to sleep as the adrenaline finally wears off, and Arthur sits sentry for his friend once more.

After Merlin wakes an hour or so later, he helps his man servant wash the blood from his hands.

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Merlin’s third kill occurs on the day of a royal hunting party. They had strayed off just a short distance from the rest of the group, Arthur stalking small game for a time, using a short bow for the sake of the hunt, and the challenge of a different weapon.  Merlin is with the horses, not more than a yard away, when Arthur feels someone tackle him bodily from the left. So intent on the prey, he’d missed the presence of another assassin.  Barely registering a body tattooed in blue and black, he throws him off. Then the large man topples over, a stiletto sticking out of his neck. Arthur scrambles out of the way of the falling body.

He turns to see Merlin’s face cold with anger, his hand still upraised from the throw of the small blade. The slim, black haired man stalks over and yanks the dagger out, kicking the body for good measure as he looks out towards the hunting party. Arthur still more concerned for his friend, than with the rest of the court’s pleasantry.

“ _Why_  do they keep doing this!” Merlin spits out the words, his anger still boiling on the surface.

“My death means the Pendragon line ends. Father’s already precarious in his alliances; I’m nothing more than a pawn. I am fair game for marriage or assassination as long as I live, since I have no brothers.”  The prince’s voice soft in the clearing; the hunt entirely forgotten. “The question we need to ask is, who is doing this, and how can we stop it at the source, Merlin.”

“Until then I have to keep you out of trouble, don’t I?” Merlin cocks an eyebrow and grins. The anger fading as he shakes it off. Letting it cleanse him from the battle craze in his mind. Arthur watches the emotions flicker across Merlin’s face and inwardly sighs with relief at the conclusion.

“ _Me_? How many times have I pulled  _your_  fat from the fire, idiot?”  He stands up, brushing the dirt and grass from his clothing. 

They return to the hunting party, and then leave it shortly after, telling the guards once again where to retrieve the bodies. Arthur lets his father know of this latest attempt on his life.  Uther scowls, and dismisses him quickly, turning his attention to what they might find on the bodies.

He finds his servant in his own royal suite, cleaning his armor without a word. They spend the rest of the evening in companionable silence. The prince finds small tasks to do that never take him far from Merlin that night.

 

Five months after the last attempt, Camelot went to war against Caledonia. 

 


End file.
